From: Milehi@io.com (Milehi)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.sportswear,alt.sex.stories.gay,alt.sex.boys,alt.sex.fetish.feet,alt.sex.homosexual
Subject: M/M Story: Team Hypnotherapy
Date: 17 Jun 1996 20:39:06 GMT
Organization: Illuminati Online
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INTRODUCTION
With all due apologies to women's groups and the politically correct
crowd, great sex is about power. Whether the turn-on comes from wielding power
or submitting to it, nothing raises the level of erotica to a frenzy like the
moment when raw, animal domination occurs. Unfortunately, we have trained our
conscious minds to fear and resist power. This may serve us well in everyday
settings, but in a sexual situation, those defenses can be a real hard-on
killer.
Since the conscious mind is subservient to (controlled by) the
unconscious mind, it is possible to unleash our hunger for power by
communicating directly with the unconscious mind through hypnosis. When a
suggestion is accepted by the unconscious mind, the conscious mind has no
choice but to go along. The trick is bypassing the conscious barriers we have
erected, and going directly to the point of arousal - after which the libido
takes over.
While there are countless references available on the mechanics of
hypnotic induction, when using hypnosis to enhance sex, a very deep level of
trust is essential. You're dealing with deep-seated fears and taboos here, and
plain, vanilla hypnotic techniques may well backfire and/or cause harm when
sexual defenses are challenged. There is no substitute for professional
training before undertaking such a task. And, while it is not recommended for
the novice, sexual enhancement through hypnosis can be both powerful and
effective.
Hypnotic seduction, however, is both unethical and illegal. Perhaps
that's why the notion is so exciting:
HEAD DOCTOR VISITS THE LOCKER ROOM
"Men, this is Dr. Raflat. He's a sports psychologist," the coach
began.
Groans and nervous snickers could be heard around the locker room,
where our varsity football team had gathered in full pads before the afternoon
practice. I could understand my teammates' attitude. Between back-breaking
exercise, long hours, instrusive physicals and random drug tests, it sometimes
seemed like being a high school athlete was just one humiliating experience
after another. Now the coach had trotted out this head doctor, who was gonna
snap his fingers and make us winners. Yeah, right.
I, however, simply smiled contently, knowing the end result would be
better than what the coach could possibly imagine.
Since I've started seeing Dr. Raflat in private therapy, my coke habit
is under control, and I'm playing the best football of my life. When the coach
asked me what had turned things around, I told him about Dr. Raflat.
Apparently, the coach and the doctor had gotten together and decided that what
had worked so well for me was worth a try with the whole team. Only I knew
that what Dr. Raflat had in mind went slightly beyond athletic performance.
"OK, put a sock in it," the coach was saying. "I don't want to hear
any arguments. The doctor has a program which will help each of you realize
his full potential. It is used by many of the most famous college coaches in
the game today, and it DOES work. He'll meet with you once a week for the next
few weeks, which means we won't be working out on those days..." he paused as
cheers broke out, "...but anyone who gives him any trouble gets 20 extra laps,
so you'd better do exactly what he says. OK, Doc, they're all yours." The
coach walked out of the training room and went to his office to jack off into
dirty magazines.
"Alright, guys, the reason I am here is to help you think like winners
and play like winners. Just as you've trained your bodies to run laps and push
those weights around, you can also train your mind to react to every game
situation like a pro. Now, some of the things that we'll be doing here may
seem silly, but there's a good reason for each exercise. If you do exactly
what I say, you can get in touch with your unconscious mind, which, when
properly trained, can make split-second game decisions much more efficiently
than your conscious mind." The doctor paused.
"Is there anyone here who doesn't really want to be a winner?" No one
dared raise his hand. "OK, then let's get started.
"What we are going to do here is teach our minds to completely relax.
When totally relaxed, your unconscious mind absorbs and responds to beneficial
suggestions without the normal screening process of your conscious mind.
"Let's say you're an offensive lineman crouched in position. Just
before the snap, the defense shifts formation. You notice the new formation
suggests a blitz. By the time your conscious mind reads the new formation,
decides the blitz is coming and calculates where you need to be to shut it
down, it may be too late. The ball has already been snapped, you've been
knocked on your ass and the quarterback has been dropped in the pocket for a
loss. But let's suppose you've trained your unconscious mind to recognize and
react to that situation. When the ball is snapped, you go immediately to your
assigned spot and help stop the blitz. If each of your teammates does the
same, there's no way the blitz can work. Sound too good to be true? Well, it
isn't. Let me show you how it works. The experience will be quite pleasant, so
just let it happen."
The doctor nodded to an assistant near the light switch, who killed
the overheads and illuminated a tiny spotlight, which projected a small circle
on the blank wall in front.
The doctor's voice became a monotone: "I want each of you to focus on
that spot. Gaze at the spot, and do not break your focus. Let nothing distract
you from looking at the spot and listening to my voice. If anything else
diverts your attention, you will let the distraction slide easily into the
background, always returning your focus to my voice. As I talk to you, I will
move around the room and I may touch or move your body in some way to help you
relax. You will not be surprised by my touch. It will be a signal for you to
relax more deeply than before. Now that you have been gazing at the spot for a
while, you're probably noticing that your eyes have become rather tired. You
may close them at any time. Of course, you can always open them again if you
want to, but your relaxation will be deeper if you keep them closed. As your
eyes close, it will become easier and easier for you to use your imagination.
As you listen to my voice, all the worries and tensions of the day will leave
your body and you will totally relax. It feels really good to relax..."
The induction droned on and on until every player's eyes closed, and
each was resting his head lightly on his shoulder pad. I tried to stay awake,
because I really wanted to remember the doctor's specific suggestions which
had worked so well on me in therapy. But the doctor passed by me and gently
pushed my head to my shoulder pad and told me to close my eyes. Despite my
efforts, I felt myself slipping deeply into sleep - even deeper than before.
It felt great.
In no time at all, the overhead lights came on and we were all shaking
our heads. Now fully awake, everyone was looking around the room, wondering
what had happened.
"There. That was easy, wasn't it?" the doctor was saying. "Sure beats
running laps, huh?" he grinned. "That's it for today. I want to see only the
quarterbacks and receivers for a little while longer. The rest of you can
shower up and head for home."
As our star receiver, I stayed behind with about ten of my buddies.
The coach came in and began diagramming some new passing routes on the board.
Whenever it seemed that someone didn't understand a particular point, the
doctor would say a few words, then motion for the coach to continue. After the
rest of the team had showered up and left, the coach finished up and went back
to his office. We still had not been dismissed, and were getting anxious. "OK,
let's review what we've learned," the doctor was saying. "The post pattern is
designed for the long bomb. If the receiver is in position, and the
quarterback is on target, you've got six points. If either is off, you've just
tossed your opponents a BONE." He paused after the word "BONE." All ten of us
stood up, as if on cue, and pulled down our football pants to reveal
fully-developing hard-ons. I looked around at the shocked expressions on my
buddies' faces, but no one made a move.
"Well, it looks like you guys have got the message, all right," the
doctor grinned, fingering his own crotch. "Let's see the buddy system in
action." He snapped his fingers, and each player began shamelessly jacking off
the player next to him. Before long, the sexual energy of ten young, hot
athletes took over, and everyone in the room was involved in a massive locker-
room orgy. Jerseys and pads flew off, and pants and tube socks were discarded
on the floor in the rush to satisfy our collective need. We were so hot, we
didn't even notice the coach, as he moved around the room snapping pictures.
For his part, the doctor seemed very content picking up each discarded
piece of uniform and pressing his face against it, while he jacked off.
Finally, he ambled over to me, handed me a tube of KY and a rubber, and bent
over, exposing his pulsating hole. I began by playfully slapping his ass
cheeks. As my spanking became harder and more serious, his cheeks grew red. He
started begging me to fuck him. As he pleaded and begged, I sat on the bench
and stuck my sweating foot up in his face. He began to hungrily suck on my
toes, telling me how great my foot smelled. All the while, I was teasing his
asshole with a KY- coated finger.
"Now sniff my pits," I said. He let out a groan of pleasure and buried
his face in my musky pit. "You like this athlete's body, don't you, pig?" I
teased. "Oh, yes," he said. "Then worship my muscles," I commanded.
After several minutes of muscle worship, he started begging again for
me to fuck him. After fitting the condom securely on my still-raging hard-on,
I worked two, then three fingers up into his hole - now desperately pulsating
with each thrust. I decided he didn't need any more foreplay, so I quickly
pulled my fingers out and thrust my entire nine inches quickly into his
sweating, twitching body. After what seemed like hours of savage fucking, I
felt my balls begin to tighten, and I knew my climax was inevitable.
Amazingly, my teammates all seemed to be reaching climax at about the same
time. They let out screams of agony, and we shot our hot loads all over the
locker room in a massive shower of lust. Then we collapsed on the floor,
totally relieved.
The doctor quickly composed himself. "Sleep," he commanded loudly. Ten
pairs of eyes closed. "Our sessions are confidential," he told us. "You had a
great practice today, and you will remember nothing else. No one outside of
this locker room will know what takes place during our time together. When I
count to three and snap my fingers, you will awake, feeling refreshed and
relaxed. You will feel like winners, and play like winners. One. Two Three."
He snapped his fingers. As my teammates shuffled off to the showers, the
doctor quickly ducked into the coach's office. I pressed my ear against the
closed door.
"Damn!" the coach was saying. "That was incredible! Do you really
think we can get away with this?"
"Sure," said the doctor. "They won't remember anything specific - only
that they had one hell of a great practice. Besides, if anyone gets talkative,
you always have those pictures you can threaten to show to their girlfriends,
family, etc..."
"Well, Doc, looks like we're going to give a whole new meaning to the
term `team spirit'. Next week - the offensive line!"